


Baby, You Got Issues

by Prisonerofthemoon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Attempt at Humor, College, Explicit Language, M/M, MSBY, Miya Atsumu is a Little Shit, Roommates, Slow Burn, i project onto atsumu, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:08:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27420061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prisonerofthemoon/pseuds/Prisonerofthemoon
Summary: "Omi-kun, I think we have a lot more in common than you think.""Mm."Two emotionally constipated volleyball blockheads become roommates and spark a change their teammates never saw coming.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 99





	1. Cue the Laughter!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is yet, but it was inspired by this art on Tumblr! https://noodlart.tumblr.com/post/625162509674053632/issues
> 
> TW: Mental Health, Atsumu curses a lot, descriptions of gross things like nasty communal bathrooms, Sakusa is a huge dickhead
> 
> Disclaimer: I did not finish the manga, so that majority of my knowledge comes from the wiki and my ~imagination~. I am totally projecting my problems onto Atsumu (I'm so sorry, but he will be okay I promise) and I do not mean to romanticize mental illness! I personally know that it really fricking sucks!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorm life sucks.

Anyone who meets Atsumu would say he’s a terrible person. He’s cocky, overconfident, condescending, annoying, and frankly just a dickhead. It’s not that he necessarily means to act this way. Sometimes he realizes when he’s gone too far, but he’ll never admit it. Just walk away and pretend it never happened. Normally, no one says anything, but his twin never fails to call him out.

_ “Yer a piece of shit.” _

_ “Eh? what does that make you then? The toilet? Or the asshole itself?” _

_ “God, I hate you.” _

_ “Yer jus’ lucky ya ain’t gotta look in the mirror er’day and see this face.” He pauses, as if realizing his own mistake. “Ah, shit. Nevermind, yer ugly jus’ like me.” _

_ “At least my personality ain’t also shitty.”  _

_ “Ohoho, I would dare disagree there, twinny.” _

Osamu somehow manages to make their way through highschool claiming a small group of friends, even if it’s just their volleyball club. Atsumu likes to claim that they’re his friends, too. After all, they all seem to be pleased with him when his serve manages to take the set in a match. Plus, as their setter, he needs to have a close relationship with every player so he can gage the court and control everything to his liking. Osamu says he sounds like a serial killer. This might be true.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. He quickly realized during his third year that he doesn’t need friends. Friends are people you have to  _ tell things _ to, and they  _ tell things _ back. Personal things. He barely overshares with his brother-who, mind you, came from the same womb as him (specifically twelve minutes later, which he loves to rub in ‘Samu’s face), let alone a person who isn’t blood related. Oversharing equals disgusting. And so Atsumu avoids this at all costs.

The thing is, Atsumu didn’t realize how much he relied on his brother until he was laying facedown on the floor of his college dorm, waiting (im)patiently for his umbilical cord buddy to reply to his texts.

To: uglier clone 12:46am

can u call me

To: uglier clone 12:46am 

like. now.

Texting once is enough to get his twin’s attention normally. In fact, Atsumu never double texts. It’s a waste of time. He’ll normally call before the thought even hits him. He hates texting. Too many ways for language to fail. Plus, he likes hearing the person’s voice rather than relying on his stupid brain to read back a text in his own dumb voice.

He sighs and tosses his phone over his shoulder, wincing at the  _ clank _ that reverberates off of the wall. He flops onto his back, deciding to hone his focus in on the MSBY Black Jackal’s #13 pennant tacked to his wall. He had little else in the form of decorations, deciding against bringing his old team photos with him when he moved to Osaka. Atsumu had very little attachment to material items. He never needed photos and knicknacks to remind him of his memories. They were already in his brain. His brain that very much needed to  _ shut up right now, ya hear?  _

He sighed and stared up at the ceiling instead. Samu was probably busy at his fancy shmancy new job. He decided against attending college, favoring the entrepreneurial business instead. When Atsumu had argued that  _ uhh entrepre-whatever is a college degree you can get anyways  _ Samu had simply shook his head and voiced that if it could be looked up online, he doesn’t need to waste his time and money getting a degree for it. Which, really, made sense. Atsumu didn’t even have a major. He came in as undecided, having only picked MSBY for the volleyball team. It’s not like he knew what he wanted to do with his life. Not like Osamu did. He knew when to quit a pipe dream like volleyball and actually work and make a living for yourself in the real world. But Atsumu was stupid and a coward, living in a shitty, overpriced dorm off of the loan money he convinced his parents to cosign so he could lay on the carpet and stare at the ceiling for endless hours instead of sleeping.

_ God. He was pathetic. _

He had contemplated going for a run. Whenever he felt too many feelings and thunk too many thoughts, he made himself run around the block, or work on his serve just so he didn’t feel like he was suffocating- life force choking out of him, blah blah blah.

But it was cold, and Atsumu didn’t know the area that well yet, and then he’d have to pass whatever other college students and staff were lurking around on this darling Tuesday evening. Then he would feel weird about the shorts he was wearing, or how disheveled his hair was, or how he must look when he runs.

Ugh.  _ Why must he be in conscious existence right now? _

He was gonna wake up before dawn and run then, since no one would be out. In fact- and his suspicions were confirmed when he checked the digital clock propped up on a stack of textbooks he’s never opened, displaying an unforgiving 3:43am- he might not even have to force sleep upon himself to get there. But then he’ll be exhausted for volleyball practice later, and Meian is sure to notice it this time.  _ “There’s only so many energy drinks you can chug before your heart gives out, Miya.” _

The thing was, Atsumu could totally get up and go for his run now, or better yet, go to  _ bed  _ like a responsible person. But his brain was floundering and he had made no effort to move off the floor from where he had flopped down hours ago. He was stupid, and lazy, and should be better.  _ He should do better _ .

He knew his brain was just trying to make him feel terrible. . He knew this was just stuff the thoughts in his head wouldn’t shut up about. After years of hearing these shitty thoughts, he knew he shouldn’t listen. It wasn’t true, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking and judging and comparing and competing and hating himself all in that order- and sometimes on shuffle if his brain felt like being spicy.

_ Get up.  _

_ Ugh. _

_ Get up off yer lazy ass ‘n do somethin’. _

He huffed himself off of the floor, groaning at the way his back cracked, and shuffled over to his shoes, pulling them on over his socked feet. He found his phone, abandoned in the corner, and after confirming there were no cracks on the screen -or texts from his brother, the bastard- he grabbed his headphones and leapt out the door.

The halls were empty, granting Atsumu a sigh of relief as he opted for the stairs instead of the elevator. Living on the third floor had its perks as the stairs were a good warm up. Once outside, thankful the desk assistant wasn’t there either (oh, so it’s  _ late _ late), Atsumu leant an arm on the side of the building as he stretched. He’s gone running before without stretching and caused the worst sprain he’s ever had. Which is why he now has to wear an ankle brace on his right foot in the winter.  _ Maybe I should’ve thrown it on tonight _ , he thinks, shivering slightly at the cold nipping his arms and legs. It was still fall though, and once he started running he would forget the chilly winds blowing past him.

Putting in his headphones, he selects his usual running playlist and, okay, so he may have weird taste in music. When talking with the team about their running playlists (amongst the various other idiotic conversations to be had in the MSBY boy’s locker rooms), Bokuto and Hinata both seemed to listen to upbeat pop music, top 40s hits, etc. Meian listens to Frank Sinatra (old bastard), while Adriah and Barnes listen to rap. Inunaki listens to Kpop, and well, Sakusa had promptly replied “nothing” when asked. When the eyes had all turned to Atsumu, he shrugged and said the same.

What could he do? He had to lie. He couldn’t tell his teammates that he listens to  _ old Italian punk bands _ . That just sounded ridiculous.

He’s never even told Osamu that. Whenever his twin hands him the aux in the car, he just throws on a playlist of Osamu’s favorite songs and leaves it at that. Or like, indie, or something. Whatever makes him look like his guilty pleasure isn’t some weird foreign music nobody listens to.

Either way, it’s nice to run to when he needs to escape his looming thoughts. When the force of the universe seems to be suffocating him, pounding him down to the ground and screaming at him, the shouting of another language in his ears, accompanied by guitar riffs and heavy drums is what seems to distract him. It’s an added bonus that he doesn’t understand the language, too. These geezers could be screaming about intricate methods of inconspicous mass genocide and Atsumu would be none the wiser.

Atsumu ventures around the campus, thankful that the only other soul roaming is the random squirrel he locks eyes with when he stops for a breather. It’s perched on the back of a bench, cleaning it’s paws when Atsumu huffs out a heavy breath a few feet away, stopping to catch his breath. He holds his arms over his head, freezing when he locks onto the squirrel. It’s beady eyes stare holes into him, and he shudders despite the sweat trailing down his back.

“Yer frightening, there. Ya some kinda bad omen?” He mumbles under his breath. The squirrel’s head quirks to the side at his remark, turning its body like it’s ready to pounce on him at any second and feast on his insides.

“Aww hell nah.” He dashed in the direction he came from, catching his breath be damned.  _ Fuck that. _

He runs the whole way back to his dorm building at a pace double the speed of his original run.  _ MSBY V-BALL SETTER DECEASED AFTER FREAK SQUIRREL ACCIDENT  _ was not a headline he particularly liked. He could feel Samu laughing at his tombstone.

Finally reaching his safety net of the small quad by his dorm, Atsumu doubled over, falling into a squat as he tried to catch his breath once again. He was definitely going to need a shower now on account of the absolute buckets of sweat he was currently producing. He stood up, pulling the neck of his shirt up to dry off his face. His chest was still pounding from the demonic encounter, but he froze when he saw a familiar lanky figure standing by the front of the building.

Panicked, he pasted relaxed eyes and his standard cocky smirk on his face, shooting out a few fingered wave. He didn’t expect a response, but when Sakusa Kiyoomi started walking in his direction, Atsumu mentally facepalmed.

_ It’s totally fuckin’ suspicious to be lurkin’ ‘round at these hours, ya idiot. Why’d ya wave? _

Sakusa was adorned in his usual all black tracksuit, zipped to the top, collar flipped up, the usual face mask covering half his face. His hands were fisted in his jacket pockets, and he looked like he might kick Atsumu like a speck of dirt.

Atsumu almost has the urge to plead with him to keep his trap shut about this to Meian, but all that comes out is “Hey Omi-kun! What are ya doin out here this fine evenin’?”

Sakusa's raised eyebrow is enough of an answer to his mental plea. He might punch himself if Sakusa doesn’t do it fast enough.

“You’re disgustingly sweaty.” Sakusa states, as if Atsumu is unaware of the way his old shirt and athletic shorts stick to his body like he got sprayed down with a hose.

“Hey now, the moistness of mah body stays between me, myself and I.” He goes for a thumb jab at himself and a cheeky wink. Cue the laughter!

Crickets. Sakusa’s face is just as stoic as always behind that paper mask of his. Typical. He’s pretty sure he’s never seen Sakusa crack a smile in his  _ life _ . And they’ve known each other for quite a while.

“There is a cockroach in my room.” Sakusa says, face as blank as ever. Atsumu falters.

“Wha-what?”

“You asked why I was outside. There is a cockroach in my room.” He states again, rolling his eyes as if Atsumu was the strange one here. Although now that he thinks about it, when he had first spotted Sakusa, he was staring up at the building like he could cause it to crumble to the ground if he glared at it enough.

“Were ya just gonna stand there till mornin’?”

Sakusa didn’t answer, just staring at him like that was an answer.

“I mean, ya’d think ya got like, pest repellant supplies, Omi-kun.” He huffed a laugh to himself, pushing his sweaty fringe out of his face. Ugh, he even felt gross. “Ta think that you of all people can’t take care of a mere cockroach…”

“You were just running like you were being chased by a serial killer, Miya.”

Atsumu spluttered. “I-Hey! I’ll have you know, I was facing off with a wild beast a few minutes ago. Had ta run back to save myself.”

“What was it?”

“huh?”

“The beast.”

Okay. Well. He really didn’t have any creative thoughts popping in to save his sorry ass. Ahh, he shoulda kept his trap shut.

“Miya.”

He sighed, closing his eyes in anticipation of the mockery. “A squirrel.”

A small huff brought his attention from his shoes back to Sakusa, who-from all that Atsumu could see- looked vaguely bemused. His face burned. It was worse than Samu laughing at him.

“Oi! Ya shoulda seen it, Omi! Bastard was lookin’ at me and plottin’ its next meal!”

“It’s a squirrel.”

“Shut yer mouth!”

“It’s hardly the size of your foot.”

Atsumu crossed his arms, replacing his frown with a smirk. “And a cockroach is hardly the size of yer hand.”

Sakusa’s eyebrows straightened as the amused shine faded from his eyes and was replaced with a glare.

_ Ha. I won. _

“You shouldn’t be out on a run at this time of night.” Sakusa stated, swiftly turning on his heels and walking back to the building. “I won’t hit any of your tosses if you mess them up because you’re tired.”

“Oi! My tosses are  _ amazing _ , Omi-Omi!” He sprinted to catch up with Sakusa’s long strides. He wasn’t much taller than Atsumu, but the man was basically all legs. “and ya know it, too.”

“Don’t inflate your ego any more than that, Miya. You might fall over from the weight.”

Atsumu huffed. Sakusa was always a dickhead, but tonight he seemed to speak his words like he was throwing daggers. In fact, this was probably the most he’s heard Sakusa speak in the span of a day, and every word is a jab at him. He tried not to take that personally.

“‘Least I don’t wake up in the middle of the night at the mere inklin’ of a bug.”

“I was already awake.”

“Wha-  _ how is that any better than me?! _ ”

“I wasn’t scared into a sprint by a squirrel.” and he could almost hear the small smirk quivering from underneath Sakusa’s mask. His dark, pointed eyes shined mischievously at him.

“Screw you. He wanted my liver.” Atsumu huffed, wiping his sweaty hands on his shorts. He was still so out of breath and sweaty. When he glanced back up to the other, he almost laughed at the twist of disgust in his face, eyes tracking where Atsumu had wiped his hands.

It was undeniable that Sakusa’s germaphobe thing was a huge factor in his life. Imagine being consumed every waking minute by the thought of dust mites and creatures so small they aren’t visible to the naked human eye. Poor guy could probably see every drop of sweat on him right now. This somehow made him feel sweatier. A cockroach must be giving him the creepy crawlies all over. Not that Atsumu wouldn’t scream like a little girl if he saw one in his own room as well. Telling Sakusa that would definitely make him feel a little better. No doubt he’d find some mirth in Atsumu’s pain, but he would never let his pride go so easily. Not when his teammate was staring up at their shared dorm building like... well.

“Yer not gonna burn the whole building down, are ya?”

“Don’t be an idiot.” Sakusa said, though his voice twinged somewhere along the lines of  _ maybe _ . He wouldn’t put it past him, either. Spark his bed on fire and wait for the flames to engulf the room before pulling the alarm and calmly filing out with everyone else, scoffing as if he couldn’t believe someone would do such a thing at this hour. The entire scenario made Atsumu want to giggle maniacally and simultaneously check where the closest fire extinguishers were in their building.

Sakusa’s eyebrows tilted back as his eyes darted between Atsumu and the building. He was no doubt battling some inner demons at the moment. Atsumu decided that maybe  _ arsonist _ was not the best word to describe his teammate. Wouldn’t that make an interesting news headline tho, eh? Sakusa verged more along the lines of  _ obsessive _ . No doubt the guy had some issues- not even just the germ thing. But frankly, it was none of Atsumu’s business.

“Alright, well if you decide to indulge in yer pyromania,” Atsumu began, moving to swipe his ID to open the front door. “atleast wake me up first. Ya know I sleep through all my alarms.” He pauses, noticing Sakusa’s creased forehead. “And I’d just love to be woken up by your sweet sweet voice, Omi-kun~”. He drops a quick wink and sticks out his tongue, adding insult to injury.

This catches Sakusa’s attention, the worried crease flattening into his normal  _ I hope you trip down the stairs and die _ glare. 

Atsumu grins goofily to himself up all three floors, relishing in the deep stretch of pain through his calves as he climbs the steps.

***

Coach ends up making him run extra laps during morning practice. He grits his teeth through it, biting back the complaints on his tongue to accept his fate. It’s when Sakusa walks through the door with deep bags under his eyes, that Atsumu loses it. Sakusa generally seems normal, sporting the usual deep furrow to his brows, shoulders slouched as if bracing the next inevitable sneeze in his direction. He is greeted with the usual “Morning, Sakusa-san!” from Bokuto and Hinata, to which he grunts in response. Somehow, this angers Atsumu more than anything.

“So, how did ya sleep last night, Omi omi?” Atsumu preens. He leans an arm on Sakusa’s shoulder, receiving a deathly glare. He promptly removes his arm. Best not to press his luck too far.

“I did not.” Sakusa says matter of factly. Bokuto’s ears perk.

“Awe, why not? Are you feeling alright?” His face twists in worry, and Hinata joins in. Atsumu rolls his eyes, crossing his arms.

“He stood outside all night because there was a bug in his dorm.” Atsumu says. He pauses, as if waiting for the clowning to begin. Instead, he notices the sorry looks on his teammates faces.

“Ahh jeez, I’m sorry Sakusa-san!” Hinata says. Bokuto nods along, solemnly. Atsumu rolls his eyes, giving up. Of course he gets yelled at for not being able to sleep, but the entomophobe gets a sympathy pass.

“I’m going to move out.” Sakusa says finally, ignoring the pity from his teammates. Atsumu perks up at this. Sakusa and himself are the only ones who live in dormitories at this point. Everyone else on the team lives off campus somewhere.

“Ah, I’d offer my second bedroom to ya, but someone just signed the lease last month.” Inunaki shrugs, stretching his hamstrings. Atsumu stared at his shoes. Should he live off campus? Arguably, it’d be a lot cheaper. He’d have more to himself than a cement brick bedroom and the tiny ass fridge the university had given him. He’d have more space for his energy drinks and protein shakes. He ponders this as his teammates go on.

“The bugs weren’t that bad when I was in the dorms.” Hinata mumbles. He was a first year, but had only been in the dorms for a few months before signing a contract with some sponsorship company. He’d travel to Brazil over the break to promote their product, and in return they agreed to lease out an apartment for him for his entire college career. Atsumu had been waiting with bated breath for an opportunity like that. Damn prodigies.

“I can deal with the bugs.” Sakusa shoots back, causing Hinata to recoil.  _ He definitely didn’t get enough sleep _ , thought Atsumu, _ if he was barking like a feral chihuahua.  _ Sakusa seemed to notice Hinata’s reaction and step back, closing his eyes in some feign attempt to calm himself down. “I would prefer it if my shower was actually  _ clean.”  _ He huffed a sigh. “I don’t shower until I’ve cleaned everything.”

Atsumu made a face. It made sense. The communal bathrooms were grotesque to him, so he couldn’t imagine what they must look like to Sakusa. He wouldn’t put it past his outside hitter to be on all fours, scrubbing the murky tiles at the dead of night just so he could shower. He thought back to the hair he would find clogging the drain and shivered.

“Yeah, the communal showers are disgusting.” Atsumu offered. Sakusa gave him a funny look, raising an eyebrow. He threw up his hands in defense.

“What? I’m not a  _ heathen _ . ‘Samu used to leave toothpaste in our sink all the time growing up.” He laughed at the sudden flashback. He had said something to his twin once, only to wake up the next day to a finger track of toothpaste across the mirror, and a smirk. He had practically strangled Osamu after that. “Drove me nuts.”

“Wait, that’s perfect!” Hinata says, jumping in place. “Why don’t you both get an apartment?”

Atsumu and Sakusa shared a horrified look and then promptly shook their heads.

“Absolutely not.” Sakusa said quickly. Atsumu did a double take. He didn’t necessarily want to share an apartment with his prickly cactus of a teammate, but he wasn’t  _ that _ upset about it.

“What the hell is that supposed’a mean?” He crossed his arms, huffing. Sakusa gave him a pointed look as if saying  _ oh, you know exactly what I mean _ . 

Was he that terrible to live with? He can’t ask Osamu that- he’s biased. He’s never lived with anyone but family before. He’s only seen his current roommate twice, and they have separate rooms. Some nights he can hear moans through the walls and the creaking bed. That’s normally when he decides to go on a midnight run. 

“No, wait, that’s actually a pretty good idea.” Meian said. When the hell did he join the conversation? “You both have been at each other’s throats lately. Maybe it’s best if you do spend more time together.”

“Uhh..” Bokuto’s eyes were wide and panicked. “Or that would make it worse.”

“Yeah, Cap’n.” Inunaki nodded. “I can already imagine the homicide case we’ll be dealing with after the first week. Say goodbye to your setter.”

“What the hell? Why are we assuming I’m the one who’s dead?”

“Because you’re the more insufferable one.” Sakusa stated, a small smirk tugging at his lips. Atsumu huffed.

“Like anyone could live with ya and yer high standards.” Atsumu grumbled. Sakusa turned on him, forcing his omnipotent glare. Atsumu glared back.

“What was that?”

“Alright, enough you two!” The coach called over to them from where he was discussing something with one of the team managers. They both kept their eyes locked on each other, the tense air between them a small no-man’s land.

“Get changed and warm up already, or I’m giving ya more drills.”

***

It was later that night that Atsumu actually gave the suggestion a real thought. He was in the communal bathrooms, brushing his teeth for the night, when his eyes laid on the clogged sink he was leaning on. He recoiled suddenly, spluttering around the toothbrush in his mouth.

“Jesus christ.” He muttered, inwardly shivering at the sight. There was a clumpy, wet pile of hair clogging the base of the sink, a few spare strands scattering the ceramic. It was obvious from the length and thickness where it came from. Pubic hair.

He warily leaned closer to the sink, peering in. The clump of hair was mixed with soap bubbles, particles of dandruff, and what appeared to be a booger. He grimaced.  _ What the ever loving fuck. _

After washing his mouth out in a different sink, Atsumu promptly made his way back to his dorm, eyes falling on the giant brown stain on the carpet in the hallway. He shook his head, moving past his dorm and instead making his way down the three flights of stairs and out the front door of the building. Looking around, he finally laid eyes on his target. Sakusa was, once again, standing by outside the dorm, mask up and jacket zipped fully to his chin. Instead of staring up at the building, he stood staring at his feet, looking contemplative.

“Omi!” Atsumu belted out, causing the other to jump, his eyes appearing like a deer-in-headlights look. When he realized who it was, his face settled, his usual bored stare masking his face. Atsumu jogged over to him.

“What, Miya.” He grumbled, and Atsumu frowned at him. Why did he always have to act like Atsumu was planning to spit on him? He shook his head. Nevermind that.

“Omi-kun, someone literally shaved their  _ balls _ in the one sink on my floor!” He exclaimed in a huff. Sakusa’s returning look of plain disgust spread a familial warmth through his chest. If anything, maybe it was sole disgust at the terrible hygiene of their peers that they could bond over.

“Why are you telling me this?” Sakusa huffed.

Atsumu blinked. He didn’t necessarily have a reason for telling him. He had seen the mess in the sink, and the stain on the floor, and he was so furiously angry about it, he figured the only person who could understand how he felt right now was the clean freak himself.

Taking Atsumu’s silence as his answer, Sakusa cleared his throat awkwardly. “I am going to look at a two bedroom apartment tomorrow.” He eyed Atsumu, and without even saying it, Atsumu knew exactly what he was propositioning.

“Oh, yes.” Atsumu begged, “Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh I have no idea what I want to do with this, or how long it will be! Please leave some comments with suggestions if you want, or just tell me how much you love MSBY because same :)
> 
> Next Time: Atsumu hates moving, and Sakusa has strange nightly rituals.


	2. Speak of the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grocery shopping with Sakusa was weird. Hell, doing anything with Sakusa was weird. Atsumu barely saw the guy outside of volleyball practice and now they live together. 
> 
> Atsumu managed to somehow keep a poker face as he watched Sakusa spray and wipe down the entire shopping basket, and then continue to wipe down everything he touched- even if he decided not to get it. 
> 
> He silently gave himself a huge medal for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Like I said before, Atsumu is very self-deprecating and stuck in his head about everything. Crude language overly present, as well.

It surprisingly takes only about a week to sort everything out. The university is overly willing to allow both Sakusa and Atsumu out of their housing leases due to their roles in the athletic department. It’s highly suspicious, and Atsumu suspects nothing less than shady deals between Coach Foster and the Housing department, but he keeps mum. He eyes their coach at the next practice a little more carefully, though.

It takes a few disgruntled complaints from Sakusa before they settle on an apartment in off-campus student housing just down the block from Hinata’s duplex. It takes a mere few hours for Atsumu to pack up his items and move into the apartment. It takes Sakusa a whole weekend and a moving truck.

“How the hell did ya manage to keep all this stuff in those tiny dorms?” Atsumu blurts out, wide eyes raking over the mass of boxes and bags. There were countless potted plants, and…  _ were those throw pillows? _

“The dorms should’ve been bigger.” Sakusa states nonchalantly, picking up a box to take to his room.  _ As if that’s an answer _ . 

The apartment wasn’t terrible-especially for the cheap price-but it had the barebones for survival and was configured like one of those mazes he’d fight with Samu to complete on the back of their cereal boxes.

Since Atsumu had packed so quickly, he had arrived first, so he got to scope out the place before Sakusa arrived (AKA, douche the joint from head to toe and check for mites). The first thing you see walking in is the kitchen, which was low grade to begin with. The stove was practically ancient, and the fridge made a wheezing, choking sound every few hours, as if it was going to cough up it’s contents on the floor. The wallpaper was the standard eggshell white, and the cabinets were a horrible pine wood. When Atsumu had opened the dishwasher for the first time, it absolutely reeked of egg and he made sure to give it a proper bleach bath before Sakusa arrived.

He told himself that this was out of courtesy for Sakusa’s phobia, and  _ not _ because he wanted to avoid the inevitable bickering wars that were surely to begin as soon as they both were settled.  _ Not at all. _

The floor was a surprisingly nice oak wood, but Atsumu soon realized it was only because that was the only type of flooring in the whole apartment. There was no carpet, tile, or anything. Only the two bathrooms had some cheap linoleum laid down.

The living room was furnished with a simple black leather couch and recliner chair. Sakusa had actually only agreed on this apartment since the furniture was guaranteed new. Between the kitchen and the living area there was a small bathroom on one side and one of the bedrooms. On the opposite end of the living room, a small hallway lead to a bigger bathroom and the other bedroom. 

Somehow, they had both silently agreed that Sakusa would get the bigger bathroom and bedroom combo. Not that Atsumu necessarily minded anyways. He had fewer belongings, and he didn’t necessarily need a huge bedroom just for it to look more barren. He didn’t mind the smaller shower, either. What was funny was how adamant Sakusa had been about getting the bathroom with the tub. Atsumu pictured Sakusa, on one of his grouchy days, blasting obscene rap music as he sits in his bubble bath, water up to his nose. The thought made him chuckle to himself.

“What?” Sakusa’s eyed him with a suspicious look. His curls were a mess from the exertion of packing and moving. Atsumu imagined his hair pulled back with one of those cutesy headbands he saw girls in commercials wearing when promoting a new skincare product. Maybe a couple cucumber slices on the eyelids. He covered his mouth, letting out a snicker.

“Do ya like bubble baths, Omi Omi?”

Sakusa’s expression dropped, unamused. Instead of answering, he picked up a couple bags to carry to his room. Atsumu, feeling reckless and brave, pranced behind him.

“Awe, Omi! Don’t be like that!” He preened. He heard a relative huff from the other. “I bet ya smell real nice from all the bubble baths ya take.” With that, Sakusa swiftly turned to face him, and Atsumu wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Sakusa stared at him a moment before rolling his eyes and turning back to his room.

“Go unpack your stuff and leave me alone.”

Atsumu grinned.  _ Ya didn’t deny it… _

That was enough bullying his new roommate. He turned away from Sakusa and walked back into the direction of his room. But not before mumbling a “I mean, if you really didn’t want any of my help unpacking, I’m fine with that.” He paused, stopping in his tracks, awaiting a retort.

No response.

“Not like I really wanted to help ya anyways.”

Silence. Sakusa would not take the bait.  _ God, it was like trying to pick a fight with a brick wall. _

Atsumu paused in the middle of his room and glanced around. Generally, he had very few personal items- especially compared to what Sakusa had brought. He mostly just had clothes, which he shoved piles of into the dresser already furnished in the room. He hung up his jackets and jerseys in the closet, and had shoved his crate of sneakers in the corner. If anything, his room hardly looked any different from the dorms, except that the walls were now a flat drywall instead of the disgusting cement brick. He also had a larger window in his room compared to the tiny one that was placed so high up on the wall in the dorm that he could barely see out of it.

The only thing he didn’t like was the hardwood flooring. He stared down at the dark panels of wood beneath his socked feet.  _ That is not going to be very comfortable when I have an existential crisis later.  _ He giggled to himself at the joke. 

Out of boredom and nothing better to do, Atsumu plopped down at his desk and decided to get his homework out of the way. Due to being a starter on MSBY’s top athletic team, the faculty and professors give them a lot of leeway with their assignments. On top of that, Atsumu has only three classes this semester. His athletic and academic advisors had both met with him to go over his schedule before, and- mind you, after getting in a long, heated debate about what Atsumu should really be focused on- they decided it was best for him to only take nine credits instead of the usual fifteen. Of course, this put his academic track all out of whack, but he didn’t necessarily care.

_ ‘That just means he can play on V-league even longer then!’  _ His academic advisor had glared at that. Instead of taking the bait though, she instead asked Atsumu about his interests and once again tried to help him settle on a major.

They had finally agreed on a couple different targeted classes. He was taking intro to business management ( _ maybe Samu will wanna partner up with him and turn Onigiri Miya into Onigiri Twins?- wait, no, ew. That name sounded gross _ ), exercise science, and photography.

The photography one had been more of a random choice. His advisor recommended something in the arts, and he thought it would be the one with the least amount of work. After all, it’s just taking pictures, right? 

No. Wrong. You have to edit the photos, too. And learn about like, lighting, and graphing, or some shit.

The prompt for his last assignment had been: ‘creatively pose a question with a photo’.

He sent in a selfie he took on his phone where he was looking contemplative (like, hand on the chin and everything) with an edited cartoon question mark above his head. He got a C- for his efforts. Osamu cackled for three minutes straight over the phone.

He had looked at what his classmates had submitted and just saw like, pictures of apples, or window sills. Someone even posted a photo of a streetlamp and got an A! Granted, he hadn’t been in class to hear the explanation, but he can’t imagine it would have made sense to him either way. Art made no sense.

Still, he was determined to at least pass the class. The final project was to put together a portfolio of photos that in turn would ‘tell a story’.  _ Tell a story??? This is photography, not literature! _

So, Atsumu decided to actively avoid that assignment and work on his other assignments instead. He had finished his readings for his exercise science class when his stomach rumbled. Out the window, he noticed the sun starting to set. _ He should probably eat dinner. _ Except- there was no food in the kitchen.

He pulled on his sneakers and a jacket, stopping by the mirror supplied on the back of his closet door.  _ Jeez, his hair was a wreck. _ Sighing, he pulled on a hat to cover his hair, silently mulling over a shower. He walked out into the living room, then freezing in his tracks.  _ Right. He has a roommate now. A grouchy, high maintenance roommate with a bug phobia. _

_ A grouchy, high maintenance roommate with a bug phobia who is also… playing video games? _

Sakusa was sitting on the couch, staring intently at the television screen as his fingers fumbled over a controller. Atsumu watched, wide eyed, as the other seemed to be fighting against a pixelated wizard on screen. Atsumu has never played a single video game in his  _ life _ . His parents were somewhat strict with electronics, resulting in him mostly watching the news when it came on. As boring as that was, both him and Samu focused their time on volleyball instead. He never necessarily had an interest in video games after that.

He knew that his teammates back at Inarizaki played them all the time. Aran and Omimi would blab about whatever new level they were trying to beat after practice in the locker rooms. Atsumu had thought once to ask to play with them one day, but he figured he would be denied, or just totally ravaged at the game itself, so he decided against it and practiced his jump float instead.

“Stop watching me like that. You’re going to make me lose.” Sakusa suddenly said, nearly giving Atsumu a heart attack.  _ How the hell did he even know he was there? _

Sakusa paused the game and glanced in his direction, an eyebrow raised. It was only just now that Atsumu realized that the boxes from earlier were all gone. The apartment was relatively more furnished, with potted plants shoved in the corners, throw pillows and blankets adorned on the couch. It was… _ homey _ . Sakusa’s long legs were spread as he slumped casually into the couch cushions. For once, he didn’t have a mask on. It was weird.

“Uh- I’m going to the store.” Atsumu said. He found himself dry in the mouth. “Since we have no food.” His stomach took this opportune time to gurgle obscenely for good measure. Atsumu noted the disgustingly bemused look on Sakusa’s face. He paused.

“Did.. uh… didja wanna come with? Since like, we live together now?”

Sakusa seemed to mull this over, shrugging. “I suppose.” 

  
  


Grocery shopping with Sakusa was weird. Hell, doing anything with Sakusa was weird. Atsumu barely saw the guy outside of volleyball practice and now they  _ live together _ . Atsumu managed to somehow keep a poker face as he watched Sakusa spray and wipe down the entire shopping basket, and then continue to wipe down everything he touched- even if he decided not to get it. He silently gave himself a huge medal for that. After thirty minutes standing in the same aisle though, Atsumu grew tiresome.

“Yer killin’ me, Omi-kun” He rubbed a tired hand over his face. Sakusa glared at him. “What if ya just point at what ya want and I’ll hold it up and you can spray it if ya actually want it?”

Sakusa narrowed his eyes, but nodded. He pointed at a box of instant pasta and Atsumu picked it up, holding it out for him to look at. After a moment, he sprayed it with his disinfectant, and Atsumu plopped it in the basket.

“Can’t imagine how much disinfectant ya go through livin’ like that.” He muttered. Sakusa seemed to ignore him. “Ya should invest in the stock for it or somethin’. Imagine how much money ya could make.” He paused, and laughed to himself. “‘Cept all that stock is probably comin’ from ya, I guess.”  _ See? He can be actually funny sometimes. _

Sakusa sighed, exasperated, as they walked down the aisle. “Do you ever shut up?” Atsumu picked up his pace to fall in step next to him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever learned how to do that in my life.” 

He shot Sakusa a cheeky grin, to which the other narrowed his eyes at him. 

“Hmm… ‘m startin’ to get comfortable with that glare of yers, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa rolled his eyes and looked away. “Spectacular” He muttered, dripping with sarcasm. Atsumu smiled. He shouldn’t be surprised anymore when Sakusa ignores his attempts at humor. He’s never taken the bait before, why would he now? Atsumu’s humor  _ did _ tend to verge along the line of annoying, though. Not that Sakusa ever held back on telling him exactly that. He seemed to be trying to keep the peace, atleast.  _ How courteous of him. _

The pleasantries barely lasted, as their first fight began in the produce section when Atsumu went to pick up a cucumber, and Sakusa nearly spat at him to get the plastic wrapped ones. “Yer so high maintenance.” Atsumu whined, but he obliged anyway. They picked a fight over how to pay the bill, and then on whether or not they should buy reusable bags. Atsumu lost the former, but won the bag war (“I’m not paying for  _ bags _ , Miya.” “If we get reusable ones, ya can disinfect them each time, Omi-kun.”). Atsumu smiled kindly at the unamused cashier as he handed his card over. 

_ This isn’t that bad _ . 

He spotted a hand drop a chocolate onto the belt for the cashier to scan.

“The hell? No way! ‘M not payin’ for ya to get chocolate that ya aren't gonna share with me!” Atsumu narrowed his eyes over at Sakusa, who held a face like a child caught in the act. This dropped right away, and he just crossed his arms, turning his nose up. _How could anyone call him a brat when Sakusa was acting like this?_ _Atsumu was an angel compared to this lanky man-child right now._

“Who cares? I’ll pay next time.” Sakusa hesitated before smirking. “And you owe me.”

Atsumu sputtered. “Fer what?” And that was obviously the wrong thing to ask, as Sakusa glowered at him.

“For being annoying.”

Atsumu mulled this over, thinking back to every little thing he has said to the other throughout the day. Every single time he had purposely teased the poor guy.  _ He had been purposefully annoying today. He was always annoying, though.  _

_ It was a wonder that anyone put up with him.  _ Osamu hadn’t called him back for a few days, and the lingering thought that he had annoyed his brother into putting off calling him back had entered his thoughts more than he’d like to admit to himself.  _ Maybe he had been too obnoxious lately. _

“Whatever.” Atsumu murmured, turning back to the cashier, who was holding the chocolate, wondering whether or not he should scan it. Atsumu swallowed down an invisible knot in his throat and nodded at the cashier.

Atsumu watched Sakusa silently munch on his chocolate in the passenger seat the whole drive back. He tried to be casual about it, but Sakusa somehow caught on.  _ Was he really that annoying? Why would Sakusa even agree to living with him if he knew how obnoxious Atsumu was? Maybe he felt bad for him, knowing that no one else would take him up on the offer. _ He gripped the steering wheel tighter.

_ Shut up shut up shut up shut up shutupshutupshutup. _

“Focus on the road before you get us killed.”

Atsumu scoffed, passing out the heavy breath he was holding in as a deep seated chuckle. “Yer one to talk. ‘Least I gotta license.” 

Sakusa stayed silent.  _ Ha. I win! _

His stomach made a loud, long, gurgling noise.  _ Dammit. _ Nature is nothing but a backstabbing whore, designed to embarrass him every moment he thinks he can breathe easily.

A hand waved in front of him, and Atsumu realized it was handing him something. He took it in his one hand, the other still on the steering wheel. It was a piece of chocolate. Something in him warmed.

“T-thanks.” He muttered, placing the chocolate in his mouth. It melted beautifully on his tongue. The silence was awkward, but Atsumu focused on the road ahead, deliberately using this as an excuse to not look over at the other.  _ Sakusa felt bad.  _ He felt bad, and Atsumu hated it. He hated it, but it also made his chest bubble.

“Whatever.” Sakusa huffed from the seat, looking out the window. “Jerk.”

Atsumu smiled crookedly, thankful that it was too dark to see his face. “Yer a jerk.”

  
  


***

It was after they had put away their groceries and ate their dinner (Atsumu cooked. Apparently, Sakusa had no idea how to cook  _ at all _ . Growing up with food lover Osamu meant that Atsumu had always known how to cook. He practically screeched when he saw Sakusa drop an egg into a pan, whole shell and all. They decided that Atsumu would cook from now on), that Atsumu felt his exhaustion peak. He plopped down on the couch, perching his legs up on the table and letting his eyes close. He took the time to refocus his thoughts. He wasn’t going to let himself plunge into a crisis already. He almost did at the store, but now that he was back at the apartment, the tightness in his chest had subsided, and it wasn’t so hard to breathe. He was  _ fine.  _ No need to panic. The end of the world surely won’t be tonight. It was only when he felt the cushion next to him shift that he opened his eyes.

He screeched before he realized who it was.

“Ya scared me there, Omi Omi.” He squinted. Sakusa’s hair was clipped back and he had some kind of wet, white sheet on his face. “What the hell are ya wearing?” 

“It’s a face mask.” Sakusa said, turning his game back on. He fiddled with the controller, selecting a character. Atsumu turned his attention to the screen.

“I thought ya were gonna stab me.”

“I just might.”

Atsumu huffed a laugh. He was about to shoot back a retort when he felt his pocket vibrate. He dug around for his phone, barely noting the caller ID before answering. There was only one person who called him anyway. He held his breath, as he held his phone to his ear.

“‘Sup.” He said nonchalantly.

“Don’t ‘sup me, you rat fucker.” Osamu hissed on the other line. “I called ya three hours ago. I know you weren’t in practice, and you do nothing else so I don’t see why ya ignored me.” When did Osamu call him? When would he have not noticed that?  _ Oh. At the store. When he was having a mental breakdown thinking he was too annoying to live and that his twin was ignoring him.  _

_ He’s so stupid. Why did he even bother being alive? He was genuinely too stupid to live. _

“Awe, was my baby bro missin’ me?” Atsumu cooed. His voice came out a little strangled. Sakusa looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He stuck his tongue out at him, earning a vague look of disgust.

“You crusty bitch. You’re only 12 seconds older than me.”

“Hey, I gained a lot of wisdom in those twelve seconds.”

“Oh? Enlighten me to this wisdom, sensei douchebag.”

Sakusa huffed a soft laugh, and Atsumu growled.  _ At least Sakusa can agree with one Miya twin on something. _ “I should've ate you in the womb.”

“Be careful what ya say, ‘Tsumu. I’m the only one ya got.”

_ Ugh.  _ He knew he was right, but he didn’t need to remind him how terribly, insufferably alone he was.

“That’s not true. I have friends.”

This made Osamu laugh a loud witch-like cackle. “Who? Yer new roomie? ‘M pretty sure he hates you.”

_ This was no doubt 100% the truth.  _ But Atsumu was on the defense right now. He turned to Sakusa.

“Do you hate me, Omi-omi?”

Sakusa didn’t even flinch. “Yes.”

“He said he loves me.” Atsumu lied into the phone.

“Sure. And he’s totally not going to murder you in your sleep?”

Atsumu turned back to Sakusa, but didn’t even have to ask.

“I most definitely will.”

“Omi-kun would never.” Atsumu preened. He could practically hear the eyeroll coming from both his brother and the man sitting next to him.

“Yeah, okay. Tell him to film yer screams for me.”

“Oh yeah, he’ll make me scream alright.” Atsumu said suggestively. Sakusa let out a sound of disgust.

“You are the most vile person I’ve ever met.”

“Awe, don’t get all sweet on me now, Omi-kun~.” 

“Die.” Sakusa and Osamu said in unison. Atsumu blinked.  _ That was spooky _ .

Osamu sighed into the phone.

“Long night, Onigiri man?” Atsumu said conversationally, picking at his nails. He was silently thankful to shift the conversation from the attack on him. He was feeling a little too vulnerable and exhausted from defending himself all night.

“More like this whole past week. ‘Ve been tryin’ to get everythin’ properly set up here so we can open that new store in Tokyo we’ve been talkin’ about.”

_ Right.  _ Osamu’s business had been doing so well that the group of businessmen he was working with thought he should start a chain all around Japan.

“So, you’d be going to Tokyo, then?” Atsumu picked at his nails more. As a setter, he normally had his nails properly filed down, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t pick them raw all day if he got too deep in his head.

“Don’t be a baby, I won’t be there too long.” Osamu said pointedly, and Atsumu felt a little relieved. If Osamu was trying to cheer him up, then that meant he would miss him, too.

“I think ya should start closer to home. I mean, why go all the way to Tokyo right away?”

Osamu hummed. “Like I said, don’t be a baby. I’ll come see ya soon anyway. Gotta make sure Sakusa-san didn’t actually kill ya.” Atsumu laughed at that, though it sounded a bit wet. His brother wasn’t a dick all the time, at least.

***

Atsumu was right earlier. The wooden floor was absolutely  _ terrible _ for his back. He laid out in the middle of the floor in his room, the only light streaming in from a street lamp outside his window. There was one thing he definitely missed from the dorms now that he was here and that was his neighbor’s obnoxious music. Most of the time it was only a heavy bass beat he could hear, but it would still distract him from his heavy lidded brain. It was at least something to focus on. Something to help regulate his breathing.

But it was deathly silent in his new apartment and he could not sleep. The sleeping issue was normal- some kind of acute insomnia he probably picked up from late nights practicing. The MSBY personal trainer held strong feelings about excessive practicing, though, and so he was prohibited from it. It was awful. The only thing he could think of to distract him right now would be to toss every ball in sight until he hit that one specific spot in the opposite corner of the other court. His sweat and sore muscles would drown out whatever thoughts were suffocating him.

He raked his fingers down his face. He wanted to scream. He settled for shoving his palms into his closed eyes until he saw odd little shapes behind his eyelids.

His brother was leaving for Tokyo next week. He was going to spend a few months there, setting up the shop and making sure everything ran smoothly. It was a great opportunity for him to expand his business. Osamu was really making it out there in the world.

So why did Atsumu feel like he was losing a limb? Osamu promised to come to his final game of the season, since he’d most likely be back just in time for it. MSBY was projected to progress to the finals. They did every year. It was always a grand showdown between them and the Schweiden Adlers. It would probably be more of a nail biter this season, with Tobio-kun and Shoyou entering the ranks.

But what if that didn’t happen? What if they fucked up a match before then? What if they didn’t even make it to the semi-finals? It was entirely possible. It was entirely possible that they could lose. It was entirely possible that Atsumu could fuck up a serve, a set, a match. He could fuck up and let everyone down. There’d be no reason for ‘Samu to come if he there was no match to see.

_ Fuck fuck fuck fuck. No no no! Shut up! _

Atsumu promptly stood up, rushing to throw on his shoes and a hoodie. He was still in shorts, but he didn’t even care. Maybe the cold will freeze his brain. He slowly creaked open his door, making sure to be quiet in case Sakusa was a light sleeper.

Tiptoeing to the front door, Atsumu kept an eye on the hallway leading to Sakusa’s room, listening intently. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with a grumpy roommate right now. Not in his current state.

Fate had plans for him though, as he noticed the kitchen light on.  _ Speak of the devil _ , Atsumu thought as Sakusa watched him curiously, sipping tea from a mug.  _ Quick, think of something annoying so he’ll leave ya alone _ .

Atsumu stood up straight, plastering on a smirk. “Yer up? Didja see a roach?”

Sakusa hardly flinched at that, blowing on his mug. “It’s late for a run.”

_ Ugh, go away. I don’t feel like explaining myself to you. _

“Couldn’t sleep. New house jitters.” Atsumu lied. Sakusa eyed him, before setting his mug down. He felt like he was getting caught sneaking out of class by the teacher.

“Me too.” Sakusa admitted, almost shyly. Atsumu noted the way his shoulders curled in on himself, like how he did when stuck in the lobby at a game. The times when he would shove himself into a corner to be away from all the people, face twisted into something bordering between fear and disgust. Sakusa didn’t have to explain himself. Atsumu understood. He made sure to let him know silently as they locked eyes. Dark, black eyes filled with something faintly familiar and resonate stared back at him. Atsumu looked away, clearing his throat he didn’t realize felt so clogged.

“Wanna come with? On tha run, I mean.”

Sakusa stared at him like he was trying to figure out an unsolvable puzzle.  _ Yer not the only one _ , Atsumu thought.  _ No one can figure out what’s goin on in this noggin’. Like they’d wanna.  _

“Sure.”

Atsumu turned back to him, albeit a bit surprised. Whatever expression was present on Sakusa’s face lasted a mere few seconds before morphing back into his usual frown.

“Can’t let you get attacked by a squirrel again.”

Atsumu couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his mouth. The tension ceased, and Atsumu already felt better.

On their run that night, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of have an idea of where I want to go with this fic, but right now it's mostly just a mash up of ideas I think are funny/cute (aka- roommate shenanigans) so hang in there with me. I also don't know how often I am going to be able to post, but the semester is over for me in a couple weeks, so I can focus more on this after finals. (:
> 
> Pls note that I have literally never taken a photography class before in my life. My one friend took one her freshman year and someone actually sent in a photo like Atsumu's, but I think they dropped the class soon after that. Atsumu ain't no quitter, so don't worry about him.
> 
> Again, please leave me comments with your suggestions, thoughts, feelings, a joke, whatever. Reading comments makes me happy. Also, follow me on tumblr if you'd like: @softhorts
> 
> Next time:  
> MSBY team bonding  
> Atsumu learns about skin care  
> Sakusa contemplates murder


End file.
